One Step Closer

As I promised, this is an update on how the travel preparations for Africa are going, together with some misguided remarks and whatnot.

I have decided to save the packing for the last night. We have plans to go out with some friends to celebrate this country getting rid of me again, and getting a rich guy and a hot girl in return. And although I, myself, am not actually a general manager of any sports team, this three-way trade between Finland, UK and Japan is a friggin’ steal for the land of lakes and drunken dudes, I’ll tell you this for free. So here’s the plan: the dinner starts around seven, probably ends around 22 hundred hours, then some drinks, maybe a shot or 4, a final sauna at the after party at Fab’s pad, after having watched the end of Gladiator with tears in my eyes, again, and I’ll be home at 5, which gives me a good three hours to pack my stuff and be at the airport by 6am, fresh as a baby’s behind. Martijn, that old horse thief, executed a similar strategy in high school and found himself hung over in Switzerland with no underwear, (aspirated initial h-sound)whatsoever, and carefully folded swimming trunks, so I’m looking forward to matching that.

If you’re deductive powers have not failed you, you may have noticed that I’m talking about a particular flight, ergo, I have bought some tickets. Unsurprisingly, flying to Africa cost like a bee-hotch, so I got my tickets for the 24th, which saved me quite a few doubloons. The downside, for those “glass is half-broken on the floor”-people, is that I have to wake up before most roosters of my time zone, and spend my X-mas alone at Heathrow airport… However, that gives my oodles of time for people-watching and most likely some interesting stories to share with you, if I ever go online again, that is. And if I don’t mistake a pair of ever-so seductive “cannons” or “long John’s” for my laptop.

Once I get to Kenyatta airport the next morning I’ll be completely prepared to never see my luggage again, but either way, Jewelz, the ghetto fabulous tree-hugger, should be there waiting for me. If she’s not, it’s gonna be a hell of a blog post, but if she is, cool.

And here comes the cool part: for New Year’s we’re going to Zanzibar!! How you like them apples? And yes, some of you might have been there and so on, but it’s still sweet as hell for me so screw you guys! In order to get there we have to take a 13-hour bus ride to Dar-es-Salaam and then cross over (like Iverson) to the island with a ferry, but I firmly believe it’s going to be worth it.

THEN, once we get back from that little getaway, it looks like I’ll be climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro with Martijn. HmmmI should probably go jogging a couple of times before that.. Naaaw, bench press and biceps is all I’ll ever need to look like an ass globally.

So that’s it for now, my munchkins and jigglewigglers, keep on keepin’ on. (whatever that means)

I am a man of great expectations and of no shame. During my never-ending quest to become an international player I keep finding myself in places and situations that are worth sharing. That's why I write this blog. Well, that, plus narcissism.. So far I've gotten hit by waves, drunk flaming aguardiente, seen giant dolls burn, frozen my ass off, and talked myself out of parking tickets, to name a few.
Grab your binoculars, come follow me!